In Desperate Need of Adventure
by Kimberlea
Summary: Veyra is one of Bilbo's Tookish cousins. After the passing of her Hobbit mother and not knowing her father's identity, the lure of adventure had been calling to her and now is her chance as a rowdy troop of Dwarves descend upon Bag End. Will she find her father? Disclaimer: I own no work belonging to Tolkien. Rated for violence and just in case... Kili/OC
1. In Desperate Need of Adventure

**So... This has basically been written because I should be revising for exams, but do not want to. Enjoy!**

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It was a Tuesday morning. I always loved Tuesdays. Especially the first Tuesday of each month; that was when I was allowed to cross to the Hill and visit my cousin Bilbo. I did not get to see him much, which was a shame. Bilbo waited for me at his gate, pipe in hand, his green eyes shining to match the round door of his Hobbit Hole, his smile lit up his happy little face as he rushed to open the gate for me. Bag End really was a delightful home to visit; it was comfortable and relaxed, the exact opposite of any Took household. There you would find little Hobbit children running and screaming everywhere.

He greeted me at the door with a heart-warming smile plastered to his adorable face and leaned upward to give me a firm hug. I should probably mention now that I am not entirely a Hobbit. My mother, Donnamira had been a Hobbit, but my father (whom no one knew the identity of) was said to be some stranger of the race of Men whom she had met on one of her many adventures.

I returned his embrace, "My dear, Bilbo! I trust you are well,"

"Indeed, indeed, Veyra." The Hobbit replied. "I always am! Yet you look drawn and thin, have you not been eating or have you merely grown again?" He chuckled lightly.

He was right in part, I had grown a tad; I was almost a full head taller than he now. However, I had noticed that I seemed to be thinning, especially around the waist, a place where Hobbits are particularly round regardless of gender.

"I am quite well," I assured him gently, "I shall be a giant in no time at this rate though!" I joked. The Hobbit bursting into dignified laughter.

"Come in," He beckoned, "I'll put our supper on soon." He promised. Bilbo was an excellent cook and so I was positively ecstatic at the prospect of a meal cooked by him.

I did as bid and entered the round, green door; admiring the new paintwork that had not been here upon my last visit. He led me through the tubular hallway into his spotless kitchen, ordering me to sit down as he made tea. He told me of a rather odd run-in he had experienced this morning with a wizard (Bilbo had called him Gandalf, and I thought I recognised the name) who had spoken to Bilbo of an adventure, asking if the Hobbit had wanted to join him. Of course Bilbo had refused. Baggins' did not partake in adventures, unlike the Tooks with whom I had grown up, and the sinister way Bilbo told me that Gandalf had hinted this adventure suggested that barely a Took would want any part of it.

All in all it was a charming afternoon and come early evening I was even allowed to help with the preparations for our meal. We were to have a fish supper, complete with potatoes and mixed vegetables. The whole thing smelled delicious, with Bilbo adding unknown herbs to the dish.

Unexpectedly there was a knock at the door.

"Veyra, would you mind plating this up whilst I see to the door," Bilbo asked, polite as ever.

I nodded my head and shooed him away with a small chuckle. I dished up the food, refraining from sneaking a taste and brought the two plates to the table. In the dining room I sat myself down and waited for my cousin's return. Instead of Bilbo, however, I was faced with a short, white wire-haired gentleman whom looked at least as shocked as I to find the room unoccupied.

Bilbo flew back into the room. "Veyra, this is Balin; a Dwarf. Balin, this is Veyra; my cousin."

"Nice to meet you," I offered, bowing my head respectfully.

He returned my head-bowing with a sweeping bow that nearly had his nose sweeping the floor. "At your service," He remarked. I thanked him, even though I had no clue as to what service I would require him for.

I raised my befuddled gaze to Bilbo, "I did not know you were planning on having company, cousin, you should have said. I would not wish to trouble you further if you have guests."

The Hobbit blanched, "No, no, not at all. You are no trouble!" He blurted. "What I mean to say is: I had not planned for other visitors," He remembered Balin's presence, "Not that you are unwelcome."

The Dwarf shook his head, showing no offence had been taken, "Have you anything to eat?" He asked without a please, nor thank you – something that I was certain would be annoying to Bilbo, who prided himself upon his manners.

Ever the gallant host, though, Bilbo offered his own supper, looking somewhat forlorn as the Dwarf tucked in.

"You can share mine," I told him, to which he gratefully accepted, pulling up a seat beside me.

He had no sooner sat down than the door went once more. The Hobbit scurried away, muttering beneath his breath words that I could not quite work out. I saw the reason for his irritation as in walked another Dwarf, Dwalin, the brother of the first by the looks of it. They took no notice of me – not that I minded – they were too engrossed in their exchange of greetings that strangely involved head-butting one another. I would rather stick to a bow or handshake if it were up to me. Bilbo was fuming, I could tell by his little speech that none but I were bothering to listen to.

A pounding came once more from the door. "I'll get it," I said, patting my dear cousin on the arm as I left him to deal with his Dwarf problem.

I swung open the door, expecting even more old Dwarves, fully willing to turn them away. I had not my cousin's patience for uninvited guests. I was, however, shocked to find not only one, but two Dwarves, though these were of an entirely different sort. One stood tall and fair, his moustache braided at each side, which I happened to think suited him, although I did think it would look ridiculous if he had not looked so dashing. The other was taller, exceptionally tall for a Dwarf; he had smouldering chocolate eyes and a stunningly lazy smile, his hair hung about his shoulders and his stubble looked rough, yet soft.

"Fili," Announced the first.

"Kili," The second informed me.

"At your service," They chimed together, each smirking at me, gifting me a low bow in unison.

I regretted not wearing a dress, Hobbits were privileged and did not have to wear gowns at all times, but it would have been better to have been in something that made me look more feminine than black leggings, a long white shirt and a corset panel type belt, teamed with knee-high leather boots. I had not even bothered to comb my golden hair that littered my shoulders, spilling onto my back.

"Veyra, at yours," I told them, recovering my wits and resolving not to dwell on my inappropriate outfit.

"Are we late?" Fili enquired, obviously wondering why I kept them on the doorstep.

I blushed, "I'm sorry, late for what?"

"Has it been cancelled?" Kili asked, seeming disappointed, evidently he had been looking forward to whatever it was.

"The meeting," Fili expanded.

I had no idea what he was talking about. "I- er- nothing has been cancelled, but I-"

I got no further, Fili had pushed Kili inside. "That's a relief!" Kili beamed, throwing a wink my way. What just happened? This was not my house in which to admit people and yet here were these two Dwarves barging in as though I had invited them. They ambled through the hall. I followed, mouthing an apology to Bilbo as the newcomers bowed to him.

Fili turned to me, his arms laden with sheathed weapons. "Careful with these; I just had them sharpened."

I stared blankly at him, not taking them from his outstretched arms. "Does it look as though I could possibly be a maid?" I snapped incredulously, pushing past him into the already crowded dining area. I swear I could hear Kili snickering as I passed him, but I decided to ignore it. I had a feeling I would be ignoring a lot of things this evening.

Kili proceeded to scrape the dirt from his boots on one of Bilbo's old glory boxes, it had belonged to his mother at some point. I smirked, that ugly box was one of Bilbo's favourites, though he never used it for anything. I heard my cousin's complaints as I settled myself in a seat, making sure that I would not have to leave it again, the others could stand for all I cared. Moments later, even more Dwarves tumbled in, I could not keep up with all the names hurled at me, nor was I expected to. Few took any notice of me. The latest batch of Dwarves were accompanied by a ginormous man with a tangled steel beard to match his matted hair and silvery robes, he relied heavily of a crooked wooden staff that had certainly seen better days, I took him to be Gandalf the Grey.

The Dwarves squeezed and squashed themselves into tiny chairs around every inch of the table and I found myself wedged in between the two youngest looking Dwarves. Not that I minded that at all; they were pleasant company – laughing and joking, bringing me drinks without me having to ask – they were even trying to be polite for Bilbo's sake.

"So, Veyra." Fili began, "What are you to master Baggins?" He sneaked a look to his brother who wore a rather delicate and tense expression, as though he were worried about my answer and hoping a certain way or another. The appearance did not suit his roguish façade.

I smiled warmly, "I'm his cousin," I told them, to a glimmer of relief from Kili, "mother's side."

"So you're a Took!" Boomed Gandalf, who I was not aware would be listening to my prattling on.

I blushed and gave an assenting bow of the head, "That I am, sir, Veyra Took." I think I may have been too formal, I could tell Fili was withholding a snigger and Kili had to disguise (badly) his laughter with a coughing fit.

Gandalf paid them no mind, "How marvellous! You would no doubt be interested in our adventure, daughter of Donnamira!"

I shrugged warily, all eyes were on me now and I did not like the attention one bit; it was how I would imagine a snake in a zoo would feel roaming it's vivarium with hundreds of eyes watching it's every move. "It depends on the adventure," I dodged.

The one I remembered was named Gloin protested. "She cannot come with us, she barely looks of age! What is she? Twelve?" He rumbled. "Far too young?"

The look on my face must have been terribly indignant. "I assure you, Dwarf,-" I made my voice as cold as I were capable, "- I am old enough to make decisions of my own as to whether I would be capable of accompanying you on quests, thank you very much!" I argued, probably sounding every bit a child.

Again Kili's face grew concerned. "Pardon me, but how old are you then?" He questioned, his tone guarded. "If you don't mind my asking." At least _he_ had the manners to ask and not simply assume.

I shrugged. "Twenty," I answered. It was not big deal. In the race of Men you came of age at eighteen and seeing as I was the only half-Man-half-Hobbit I had come across or heard of I had no inclination as to when my exact species became adults, no idea how long I might live for.

"But even Hobbits do not come of age until they are thirty-three!" Bofur cried, "You cannot join us, child!"

I resisted the urge to argue, it would only have reinforced his point; instead, I glanced to Gandalf for back up, pretending I did not catch the disappointment on Kili's face. Not that I was curious as to why he would be disappointed. Okay, so I might have been. A lot.

Gandalf did indeed come to my aid, "Ah, my dear Bofur, that is most true," he paused, "but Veyra is more than a Hobbit, in her veins runs the blood of Men and so it is that this young woman is most definitely of age." The wizard wheezed a light laugh at the stunned silence of the group; evidently they had all expected me to be a pure Hobbit, even though I was far too tall for one of my age.

"Still, she cannot join us." Spoke a deep, regal voice, dripping with grandeur, sneaking in from the Kitchen doorway. Bilbo had quietly admitted him whilst everyone was speaking all at once.

I was getting tired of being told what I could and could not do by people who did not know me in the slightest. "And why ever not?" I challenged. You could feel the air push past as the Dwarves did a collective gasp of suspense.

The Dwarf stood high, his dark hair and beard streaked with grey and yet there was a youthful hunger inside his eyes, such that made it difficult to look at anything else.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "You know nothing of the world. It would be the greatest surprise to me and all others if you even possessed a mere inkling of what an Orc is!"

"I know well enough the damage Orcs can do." I answered quietly, dangerously.

"What would bring a Shireling into such knowledge?" He sneered.

I stood tall, almost upsetting Fili in his seat beside me. "I have more reason to detest those creatures than most, though far less than some." I muttered vaguely before standing to leave. This brought back memories that I absolutely did not wish to revisit. I would have walked back to my home in Bywater, just outside Hobbiton, if Bilbo had not persuaded me to stay the night due to the late hour.

I decided I would leave the men to do as they wished, filling in Bilbo on what they had planned, I would not intrude upon their company nor their adventures if I was not wanted. The newcomer was wrong, very wrong, I knew very well what Orcs were and destruction they caused. My mother had been destroyed no more than a year ago by an Orc pack just outside of Bree. The people who found her remains only found pieces and her diary; that is the only way they were able to find out who the mangled remnants of a body once was. That is why I lived with the Old Took now; he would no longer allow to go on adventures, he feared I would meet the same end as my mother – not that I had ever been on a real adventure, the furthest I had ever ventured was The Marish and that was still contained within the Shire. I tried not to dwell on my suspicion that Bilbo would be asked to leave his beloved Shire against his will, whereas I would be left behind wanting nothing more than to explore the world beyond. Life, it seems, is greatly unfair.

Sighing I sank into one of my cousin's armchairs and enjoyed a tankard of ale, not very feminine, but I needed a drink right now. Things were not going at all my way. Was a quiet evening with my cousin so much to ask for? Now twelve Dwarves had ruined it! I allowed my eyes to close, this was definitely not my day. Not my day at all.

I sensed, rather than saw, another enter the room; judging by the weighted sound his boots made across the thick carpet I gathered that it would not be my cousin, but a Dwarf – probably not one of the more rotund ones, one of the younger. If I had been in a better mood, I would have done the polite thing and opened my eyes or acknowledge him in some way, but I had not the patience to do such a thing, to interact with one of those diminutive Dwarves.

The sofa next to me wheezed as a form lowered his weight upon it. Neither of us spoke a word to the other as my eyes remained shut. His breathing came to my ears; a slow and steady rhythm, unbroken by noises from the kitchen that floated in on clouds of pipe-smoke. The scent of which rolled off him to settle like a blanket about me.

Curiosity finally triumphed over my stubbornness. Slowly I drew back my eyelids to reveal unto myself just who it was that had joined me. It did not surprise me when my gaze fell upon none other than the youngest Dwarf.

"So you are willing to be sociable at last!" He sniggered, giving my arm a light tap in jest.

I frowned. "My apologies," I mumbled, "I am out of sorts this evening, do forgive me." It was not like me to ask forgiveness, but on this occasion I was far too tired and grumpy to bother with an argument.

The Dwarf smiled, albeit somewhat sadly. "You need not apologise to me; I have come to apologise to you on Thorin's behalf." So that was the regal Dwarf's name. I must have still worn a bewildered expression. "Master Baggins informed us of your mother." He said by way of explanation.

"It matters not," I waved a hand airily. "My only ask is that he restrains from treating me as a child, it is long since anyone has done that and I am too unused to it."

Kili seemed to understand, "I will ensure they treat you as you deserve," He drawled a sneer tugging up the corner of his lips. "You did not look a child to me," He admitted.

I blushed – well who would not? I had no inkling of how to respond to that. What he even meant by it, I would never know. "So how old are you then?" I enquired. It seemed a good idea to know how much younger than the youngest Dwarf I was.

"I'm seventy-seven." He replied after a while.

I was not expecting that; to see him you would think he were no more than thirty years old at the most, but to be in his seventies he looked incredible. Not that I should notice that. Either Dwarves live even longer than Hobbits do (120 years on average) or he had a miraculous wrinkle treatment.

"Wow," I breathed. "Not to be impertinent, but how do you possibly look do young? It's really not fair!" I joked. Though it was not fair at all, he barely looked but a few years older than me, I expect I will be a bag of creased skin by the time I reach his age.

The Dwarf laughed, "I suppose we Dwarves have a habit of living a fair bit longer than both Men and Hobbits." He paused. "Shame really." Once more a cloud of something akin to pain transformed his features, sharpening the colour of his eyes and drawing close his brows.

"How so?"

His cheeks glowed a faint pink but did not answer. At that moment Fili came peeping his head into the room. His moustache braids swinging jovially.

"Has it been agreed?" He questioned, striding to stand by his kin. Has what been agreed? I sent him a puzzled glance, then turned to a reddening Kili.

He cleared his throat, "I have yet to mention it, brother."

I threw an accusatory glare at Kili; it felt like he had been trying to lull me into a sense of trusting him. I wonder what he was sent to persuade me to do.

"It is nothing terrible, I promise," He raised his hands defensively, "Thorin, the leader of our Company, has requested that you join our quest. Gandalf thought it would do you some good and I imagine we, all of us, would be glad of your presence." He bumbled.

I considered this. I had not even the faintest idea what this journey would entail. "What are we, I mean you, setting out to do, may I ask?" It seemed to me only too sensible to know what I would be agreeing to before I answered.

Kili faltered, his brother taking over. Both donned identical expressions woven from seriousness and laced with foreboding. "We will make to reclaim the home of our fathers; Erebor. We seek to overthrow the Dragon Smaug so that Thorin can, as he should have, become King Under the Mountain. It will be dangerous, extremely so, but have no fear; you shall be rewarded with your equal share of the gold upon our taking it back."

A dragon. That is what we are to face. Even with the fourteen, fifteen if I agree, of them I highly doubted the mission's success and yet the whole thing called to some Tookish part of me that was in desperate need of adventure. I loved the Shire, but I had never gone beyond what I know, like my mother had. I needed to get away, to see more of the world than I had ever dreamed.

"You do not have to accompany us if you are afraid." Fili supplied.

"Though you must know that we would let no harm come to you if we can help it," Kili added, trying to assure me, but I knew that against a dragon I would have to be of use somehow; they cannot protect me and fight a dragon at the same time.

They wanted an answer and soon; I could tell by the way Kili's leg bounced with anticipation. Fili, too, appeared on edge – his right eye was twitching, giving him an extremely impatient air.

There was only one response I could give. "So, when do we set out?" I asked with a grin.

Kili's face broke out into the most glorious smile I had ever seen, the sun held nothing in comparison to the brightness of this single quirk of his mouth. "Really? You'll come?"

"Of course," I told him, honestly I could not have declined had I desired to; opportunities for adventure are few and far between.

Fili too grinned widely. "We leave at dawn," He informed me.

That was far sooner than I had expected. "Then, I had better return home and pack." I mused, happily daydreaming about the thrills of this adventure.

"There will be no need for that, young one," Gandalf chuckled heartily from the hall doorway. "I took the liberty of collecting a pack from Gerontius on my way here, I hope you do not mind." So he had been to see the Old Took. I remembered that Gandalf was a dear friend of the Old Took, having accompanied him on many a trek, even presenting the Hobbit with diamond studs that would only unclasp once ordered to do so.

"You knew I would come." I had meant it to be an interrogative, however, as it so happened, upon saying it aloud it transformed into a declarative statement. He had known, and if he had known that, as he had had knowledge of my blood, then how much more of my life or my future could this wizard possibly be aware of? I could not decide whether this made me cautious of him or trusting of him. In resolve, I thought it best to trust any friend of my family, for they were few.

The wizard nodded as though it had been obvious that I would join up without much encouragement – he clearly knew me better than he had previously portrayed, or maybe he knew my mother well and presumed I would be very much as she had been. I hoped he was right. It would be a great honour to fill her shadow.

"Will Bilbo come too?" It would be nice to have my cousin by my side, a little bit of home.

Gandalf studied me carefully, his mouth tugging upward at the corners. "He is quite… undecided at this present moment and not predisposed to give us an affirmative as yet." The wizard hedged.

"He fainted when we mentioned dragon fire." Fili supplied.

I supressed a grimace, I had no doubt that the thought would not sit too well in my cousin's mind – he had been brought up with Baggins'; they were not designed to think lightly of adventures, let alone dragons, they would not even cross the Brandywine River by boat always opting for the Bridge if they took the trouble to venture across at all. It is likely that he would decline. Pity, an expedition would do him a world of good; he had become rather rounded and complacent as of late. Not that such a thing were uncommon among Hobbits, but I had a fear that being surrounded by contented Hobbits had dulled his sense of fun. When he was younger he would take a very young version of myself on walks to find Elves in the nearby woods, telling me stories and how he would love to encounter the Fair Folk. Now the only stories he told were the gossip he had picked up from The Green Dragon with his ale addled friends.

"I hope he wakes in a better mind," I muttered to no one in particular.

"As do I, Veyra. He would learn more of himself than ever if he sees the sense to join us. I should warn you to note that neither of you shall return the same as you are now," I had already begun to think that, even hope it, "if you return at all." He finished darkly.

I shivered, I had expected that as well, and yet having it spoken aloud made the thought all the more real. "I understand," I whispered, "I would not hold you to any promise of return." It dawned upon me that I might never see the Shire again, but that did not make me as saddened as I previously thought it would. Do not mistake me, I prayed to the Valar for a safe homecoming, but I could happily live elsewhere.

The youngest Dwarf's face contorted. "If Gandalf cannot promise your safety, I will."

I made to thank him and tell him it would be unnecessary, he needed to look after himself first, but Gandalf cut me off. "There is no need for that, master Kili, Veyra is a keen bow handler and I'd wager her mother taught her the ways of the blade also."

"You knew her well?" I queried, for she had indeed taught me both sword and bow from an early age, though I had not used either since her passing.

The wizard elucidated: "Indeed, long have I been acquainted with the Tooks and she was a particularly fond adventurer especially in her youth." He smiled fondly in remembrance, "A fine woman and one of the bravest I have ever met. I bet you could give her a run for her money though." He joked, nudging my shoulder conspiratorially."

This cheered me, I only hoped I could live up to her reputation. I nodded in thanks. "I had better make sure I live up to such expectations then," I giggled.

The other Dwarves joined us, gently laying an unconscious Bilbo into the armchair across from me, the rest of them slotting themselves into small spaces on the sofa or simply plopping down onto the floor. The youngest brothers ended up perching on either arm of my seat so as to allow Dwalin and Bailn, Bifur and Bofur to take the sofa they had occupied. It was astonishing to see how neatly all twelve Dwarves and Gandalf managed to fit inside my cousin's living room, not that it was a tiny room – by Hobbit standards, it was huge – but it certainly did not seem as though it should be room enough for such an infestation of Dwarves.

They were a merry gathering once you were accustomed to their swearing and random bursts of violent belching. The loudest of which came from Oin, I joined in with their appreciative howling and applause. None seemed perturbed by my lacking in femininity, I was by no means very masculine in most ways; however, my preference for ale over wine, and trousers over dresses had warranted much gossip in Hobbiton and the surrounding areas. Not that gossip had ever been a new thing for me, being the only half-Halfling in the Shire had given me both fame and infamy beyond measure. The curious Shire-folk never really knew just what to think of me.

After much discussion of dragons and gold, the Dwarves quietened down, each musing the mission ahead. Slowly they struck up a tune, dark and haunting. First to start a verse was Thorin, his majesty only amplified by the regal gravel of his baritone. Next to join him was Kili; he had the loveliest vocals I had ever heard, it was like singing velvet rolling about the room, undulating alongside Thorin's. Soon all Dwarves were singing. The effect was hypnotic. Soon the entire Hobbit hole hummed with the sound of Dwarfish song, slow and rumbling.

It swirled about my head, mingling with the heady scent of pipe-smoke which came in coloured rings from the corner in which Gandalf perched. Vaguely I was aware that Bilbo had risen once more, but I could not find voice to soothe his worry nor focus to watch his little face as he once more considered the task at hand. Before the song had ended I was drifting into lost places filled with flameless fires and shining darkness. The ancient voices of every Dwarf that ever lived filled my mind, choking on a cloudless smoke of my own imagination; I dreamed of the dangers that awaited us with no fear at all.

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**Please review! :)**


	2. Victory Over the Sun

**Here is another chapter, it came sooner than I thought it would!**

**Just so people are aware, any words in Dwarvish (Khuzdul) are ones that I have made up. **

**If anyone is wondering, I have decided to name each chapter after whatever song I listen to when I have an idea for a chapter. So far that's gone well; last chapter (and the entire story) was named after the Deaf Havana song 'In Desperate Need of Adventure' and this one is named after Biffy Clyro - 'Victory Over the Sun'.**

**Thank you to Princess of Ered Luin for being the first person to review and for highlighting an issue I had meant to cover before posting this chapter, I've tried to fix it in this revision. **

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I woke in my usual room at Bag End. It was still dark, but the warm air breezing in from the window told me that the sun would come to visit soon. I had no memory of getting here, but seeing as I was still wearing the clothes of the previous day I gathered that I had not put myself here. I would have to ask who it was if I remember. Using the adjoining bathroom, I washed and dressed quickly in brown leggings, a beige shirt, my black corset/belt and matching knee-high boots.

I looked to the foot of my bed and there lay the pack, the one Gandalf had collected from the Old Took. I examined, it had everything I would need; a couple of spare leggings, a few shirts, soap, a brush and (most importantly, in my opinion) some spare underwear and socks – though the idea of the Old Took routing through my underwear drawer was slightly unnerving, I just hoped he had one of my aunts do it instead. The bag was a simple black leather and, though laden with the necessities in an appropriate quantity, there was still plenty of room left.

Beside the bag shone the handle of a magnificent sword, sheathed in charcoal leather. The pommel and hilt had been inlaid with precious stones, one of which I was certain was a rather large diamond, the thing must have cost an absolute fortune. The blade itself, once unsheathed, glittered in the light; thousands of tiny facets were cut into one side, creating a shimmering serrated edge whilst the other appeared plain, but was most definitely sharper than anything I had ever used before. It was not alone, there also was a marvellous matching bow, jewels gleaming in the wood. It was of such a size that, whilst it would be functional and no doubt of a long firing range, it would be easily concealed in a travelling cloak, no one would see the outline of it nor notice it unless they were touching it. A sheath of arrows were there too, and a note. It read:

_Dearest Veyra,_

_It is my honour to give unto you weapons from your mother, she had left them with me a few years ago. They belonged to your father, though she would not tell me who he might be. She did, however, tell me that I am to give you these upon your first real adventure and that they would take you to him, if you so wish. Use them well._

_Stay safe, young one._

_Gerontius._

The Old Took seems to know far more than he lets on, but I suppose it is too late to ask anything of him now. The sun was nearing its awakening and there were distant sounds of the waking of the others in the bedrooms further along the hallway; quiet shuffling and stifled yawns.

I crept out of my bed chambers, bringing my possessions with me, as I made my way toward the kitchen where the smell of bacon was beginning to make itself known. The luxury of such a scent on the dawn of their mission symbolised both hope and despair; hope that when they return they will feast once more and despair that it should be many a day or even month before they have such delicious delicacies again. Either way, she was certain that bacon and egg would be enjoyed by all for one last time at least.

Finding Bombur cooking and whistling in Bilbo's kitchen, I slid into one of the free dining chairs at the long table. There were already a few Dwarves (Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and Bofur) and Gandalf awake.

"Good morning, Veyra!" Boomed the wizard, "I trust you slept well,"

I nodded, "I did indeed, thank you." It was quite difficult not to return his glowing smile, even at this time in a morning when I was usually rather irritable. "And thank you to whomever it was who set me to bed." I added on an afterthought, I would hate for any of them to think me rude.

"It was nothing, my dear." Spoke the last person I had expected: Thorin, "We could hardly have left you slumbering upon the stone floor now, could we?" He chuckled. Maybe we could be friends, now he realised that a woman might not be quite as useless on this quest as he had thought.

Once again, I conveyed my thanks and Bombur rushed in with the first batch of bacon and eggs; they were scrambled, poached, fried and boiled. We each of us took a pile for our plates and ate in a contented silence as soon more Dwarves rose.

Last in stumbled a bleary Kili, his hair matted and sticking up at the back, his clothes roughly thrown on and shirt buttoned up incorrectly. Wiping sleep from his eyes with the end of one of his overlarge sleeves he sank into the nearest chair. The chair just happened to already possess an occupant. Said occupant came in the form of myself. He, apparently, had not noticed this minute detail.

"Kili," I wheezed. He looked about himself confusedly, "Though you are far less heavy than some of my cousins whom usually sit upon my lap, I would greatly appreciate it if you were to move so that I may eat."

Immediately the youngest Dwarf leapt at least a foot into the air, apologising profusely in what I could only imagine to be Khuzdul (Dwarvish), vaguely I recognised the word for 'sorry'; the Old Took had taught me phrases in many languages when I was a child. The Dwarf scrambled away, his face a lovely shade of crimson.

"Ghuld ud sahn," I assured him, remembering the sequence for 'you are forgiven', one of the few other phrases I could still recall.

"You speak Khuzdul?" Fili questioned inquisitively.

I shrugged, "Not really, I was taught a few pieces when I was young. Alas, I doubt I should ever remember much more."

Despite my admission, the group appeared to be impressed, with the exception of Thorin who merely scolded Kili, "You would be best to speak to the girl in the Common Tongue, Kili, and to check your seat before you set yourself down." Though he added a laugh, his eyes searched my features with an uncomfortable intensity. I fear he had hoped he would be able to use his mother tongue in discussing things he wished me not to hear and now thought it an inconvenience that I might understand a few words.

I had finished and so took my plate to the sink so that I might wash up. Straight away the dish was out of my hands, a smiling Fili also reached to take my cutlery. "You are not a maid, remember?" He sniggered, smirking down at me. I made to retort, but he was having none of it. "Sit." He ordered. I did as directed.

Soon the Dwarves had washed and dried each piece of china along with all the cutlery. It was only then that I noticed that we were missing one vital person. "Where is Bilbo?" I enquired.

A wall of silence rose between myself and the guests, languidly dissolved by the wizard who had, until then, been quietly smoking on the far side of the room staying out of any conversation. "He says he will not come." He answered, fixing me with a curious stare.

I frowned, "I had almost believed he would accompany us," I confessed, disheartened.

Gandalf sighed, "So had I, alas if he does not meet us at The Green Dragon by the time the sun is well over us, we will be off without him."

That did not fill me with hope, but rather; trepidation. It somehow felt wrong to leave Bilbo, as though he were meant to go on this journey more so than I. "He will beat the sun." I asserted firmly.

"Ten pieces of gold wagers you are to be wrong," Proposed Kili, a smug grin settling about his face.

I considered this, "Done," came my reply, "though I do hate to take money from people so easily." I found myself teasing.

Soon the entire room were exchanging bets with only four Dwarves (Bofur, Bombur, Oin and Fili) and Gandalf giving Bilbo any credit, though I had the distinct feeling that they were merely humouring me and did not support Bilbo in the slightest. At this point my uncertainty had waned, I severely desired my cousin to come with us and so he would, I prayed to the Gods he would at any rate.

The Company headed outside to where the ponies waited for our departure. I slid my sheathed blade into my boot for safe-keeping noting that it was exactly the right length to slide in unseen and be easily reachable, the bow too clipped into place inside my full-length grey travelling cloak, without being detected. The only thing that could not be hidden was the accompanying sheath of arrows, which I would have to wear upon my back. I did not mind that now though. I attached both bow and quiver to my pony, alongside my bag. The bag was a little fuller now, having had some food supplies and two water skins added.

I had a niggling feeling that the troop were giving me the least supplies to carry because of my being female, it should not bother me, but it did; I wanted to be viewed as an equal and here I was bearing the least burden, but it did feel as though they would see me as a complaining woman if I argued the point.

The Green Dragon took no more than a twenty minutes to get to and once there the Dwarves tucked into yet another meal and yet more ale. These people ate enough to rival the Hobbitish appetite, though not quite, the Hobbits would have already had breakfast, second breakfast and would be starting on Elevenses by now. I wondered how it is they could all stay so trim, none but Bombur had particularly large stomachs, and yet Hobbits were thought strange if they did not have rounded middles. Sadly, the race of Men could not eat as much as they wished without consequence, though I tried. I did join them in a second meal and all too quickly the sun was racing across the sky, as though desperate to win over poor Bilbo, like they were deadly competitors. I had never known time to pass so quickly; whether that was due to my not wanting it to pass or the fact that the gathering was so cheery that I did not notice the time from my enjoyment, I did not know.

"We must away now, if we are to make any progress." Announced Thorin.

I groaned, though I knew he was right; we could not wait for the Hobbit any longer. It was only ten o'clock, but it would soon pass as the last few hours had. Reluctantly I followed them out, slowly readying my pony for our departure.

My pony was a sandy brown with a flowing white mane that contrasted beautifully, I discovered his name to be Tobias. I did not learn the names of the other steeds; I was only just managing to remember the names of the Dwarves and that alone was enough of a feat when many had such similar sounding names and nicknames for one another.

We set out once more, this time heading towards the eastern border of the Shire. Our troop had not gone far before I heard a slight pounding of hairy feet along the path behind us.

"Wait!" Called a familiar voice.

The sun was not yet overhead. I smirked to Kili, who rode beside me. "Looks like I was right," I winked in his general direction.

My attention was taken by none other than my cousin running the dirt track. "I have done it, I've signed it!" Bilbo pronounced proudly, waving a contract similar to the one I had signed the night before.

"Victory over the sun," I cried triumphantly, throwing my arms in the air, ignoring Bilbo's befuddled gaze. A hand found one of mine and pressed something into my palm. I looked over to my right finding none other than Kili, his features dusted with pink as my sapphire eyes found his chocolate orbs. His hand did not move for a long moment after I realised he must have been handing over my winnings. All around us Dwarves were passing and throwing small bags of coins or whatever else they had wagered and those of us with winnings were grinning manically.

"It seems your faith in people has rewarded you," He remarked, "One can only hope it continues to do so." Kili uncurled his fingers from around mine.

I blushed. I did so far too often around this Dwarf, it was not typical of me to be quite as shy as I was behaving at this moment in time. I hardly ever found my cheeks warm, something that I could tell Bilbo was aware of from his knowing smiles. On no, what could he be thinking? This did not bode well. I had no time for shyness or embarrassment now. It just was not me.

Luckily for me none of the Dwarves seemed to notice – well, none of them, apart from Fili, but it was not my embarrassment he had cottoned on to; it was his brothers. At least it was not just me who was feeling timid of people. I faintly heard the two speaking Dwarvish under their breaths, it seemed as though Fili were teasing Kili about something – probably the fact that I had been blushing yet more each time the younger brother happened to peek over my way. Kili appeared to be becoming a little annoyed with it; his words coming faster, louder, harsher than they had been only moments ago. I urged my pony forward, lest I remember any more Khuzdul; I did not desire them to think I would listen in to a conversation clearly not meant for my ears.

I heard Gandalf informing Bilbo that he had known the Hobbit would come all along. It pleased me to know that the wizard had the same trust in my cousin as I, the Hobbit needed people who believed in him in order to believe in himself.

"Gandalf says you told everyone I would come," Bilbo stated once I was close enough to talk to without raising his voice.

I nodded. "I knew you would not wish to miss out on this," I teased, ruffling his hair.

He snickered. "So you came along to keep me company?" He questioned, though we both knew that would not be the answer.

"I could not let you have all the fun for yourself, dear cousin," I mocked. "I had other reasons too though."

"Your mother." He said sagely, he knew me better than anyone else in my life.

Again, I bobbed my head. "She left me these," I indicated my new weapons and revealed the note unto him.

He seemed confused for a moment once he had read the paper. "You have never told me you wished to find your father," He frowned, "I would have helped long ago had you asked." It was as though he were upset that I had not shown any inclination toward finding my father until I was in the presence of strangers.

"It had not been possible," I told him, no one even knew where my mother had been when she fell pregnant, "you know that." And he did. "Besides, I might never find him still. It could all be one of Old Took's fantasies, you know how he can be."

This perked the Hobbit right up, evidently he was troubled by the thought that I had been keeping things from him of all people. I would never do such a thing, there were no secrets between my cousin and I; we were the closest of all the family and had been ever since I was little and he would take me on Shire-adventures.

"Give the Hobbit your pony." Thorin barked at me. I did as told before he could grow angry, I could tell he already had a distaste for me for making them wait for Bilbo.

"No, no, that won't be necessary," Bilbo protested, "I'm sure I can keep up; I've done my fair share of walking holidays, even got as far as Frogmorten once. No, I'll go along on foot, I don't-" The Hobbit got no further; the youngest brothers had plucked Bilbo from the ground and planted him onto my former pony.

"You will ride with Kili," Thorin ordered as he passed me.

Uh oh. I was guaranteed to be a wild fuchsia right this moment. Is there no other I could ride with? I mean, I could not ride with Bilbo, his pony was far too tiny, but surely another could have me ride with them.

In an instant, the Dwarf in question was by my side, silently removing my bag and weapons from my possession and fastening them to his pony, which did appear much larger than the one I had vacated. So much so in fact that I had no idea how in the world I was to climb upon its back. That was until I felt two strong arms grip my sides and hoist me to sit in front of the arms' owner: Kili. Well, I need not have worried about getting on the pony at all and luckily for the Dwarf, I was still short enough so as he could see above my head.

"Thanks," I murmured.

He simply chuckled at first. "You would never have scaled such a distance by yourself, my lady." He informed me, supressing further bouts of mirth.

"Indeed," I muttered coldly. I had thought him to be above such underestimation of me, but he was a male and it seems the entire male species shall forever mistake females as weak.

It was not an uncomfortable feeling, sitting in front of the Dwarf, yet the snickering and staring from the other Dwarves set me on edge; what did they possibly think was going on between me and the pony-sharer? I ignored them and listened only to the teasing banter going on behind me, courtesy of Kili and Fili.

"Brother, if your beard continues at this rate you'll be able to braid it in a few hundred years," Fili mocked, stroking the braids at his moustache.

Kili brushed the comment off, "At least I do not sometimes mistake my moustache for food, _brother_," He sneered over the last word. Though he was joking, there was an undertone to his voice that portrayed he was hurt more than he would let on. I made a mental note to ask him about that later. Personally, I preferred Kili's look over Fili's, not that I would let either of them know that.

"What do you think, Veyra?" Fili questioned.

I shook my head, making a non-committal noise, "I'm not getting involved!" I giggled.

"That means she prefers the braids!" Fili hollered heartily.

I snorted, "Sorry, when exactly did I say that?"

Fili scowled, "I bet she does not even appreciate facial hair… Surrounded by beardless Hobbits… No sense of masculinity." He was babbling along like this for some time and I could feel his brother's silent laughter as he shook behind me. Fili did not look our way for a while, eventually going to join Thorin at the front of the company, muttering about the need of sharp eyes there as well as at the back.

I felt Kili rest his head upon my shoulder, the warmth of his breath stirring my hair brought a heat of blood to my face, thankfully he could not see from his angle. "So you believe a… light covering of beard is better?" He whispered. I could feel his smug expression growing.

"I do not recall having said that either." I shot back.

"I know," He said brightly, "but I can tell."

"Oh, you can, can you?" I countered, turning my head to face his grin with a raised eyebrow, "Pray tell how you can know such a thing of a person you have just met?" The sarcasm in my tone seemed to only amuse him further.

"I just can," He sniggered, raising his head and leaving me to mutter in annoyance.

I really did have a pet peeve of people assuming what I like and dislike; it made me feel as though I had no input in my own decisions, like I was not in control of anything however much I think I am. Though a part of me – a very small and very ridiculous part – did not particularly mind this Dwarf assuming things about me, especially seeing as though he was usually correct in his assumptions.

As the shadows lengthened and dusk began to settle around the Company like a blanket, I could feel myself sagging back into the warm body behind me, my head drooping forward and my eyes growing heavier and heavier. He did not complain.

Thorin halted at the head of the company. "We shall make camp here." We had arrived outside a reasonably sheltered outcrop of rock. Covered by trees over one side, it would be fairly simple to keep watch in a place like this.

"Veyra?" Kili nudged my back gently, I let out a sleepy 'hmm?', "You can sleep as soon as we alight, Vey." He told me. 'Vey', no one had called me that since my mother passed; it had been her pet name for me. It niggled in my mind that I should be annoyed that he had used it, I had, after all, been upset with Bilbo every time he called me it that he had stopped. Yet it did not sound familiar on his lips, as though he had given me a new nickname, it felt like he was trying to make a strong friendship between us. The Dwarf swung himself from the pony, keeping a hand on my back so as not to allow me to fall. His arms encircled my waist as he slid me from the height of the pony.

"Thanks," I muttered blearily. I unclipped my belongings from the steed and Kili collected his. I tottered over to where Balin was making a fire, the scent and promise of food keeping me awake a little longer.

But not long enough. I woke not too much later to the sound of a low, crackling fire and a hushed conversation that had to be close by. I recognised the four voices. Balin, Fili, Kili and Bilbo were sat a little ways from me when I cracked open my eyes. It was then that I realised someone had placed me on my bed roll and put my blanket and cloak atop my sleeping form. At some point I would have to get to bed without someone putting me there, no matter how touching it was to be looked after.

"Did you sleep well, miss?" Balin chuckled, spying me behind the youngest Dwarves who had their backs to me.

I nodded. "Yes, thank you, Balin. I am afraid I should not be so used to such long treks for some time." I spoke as I clambered over to sit in their little group.

The men snickered. "Nor I!" Bilbo agreed whole-heartedly. I let out a light chuckle. It would certainly be quite some time before my cousin would be accustomed to living outdoors and travelling leagues at a time.

A strange sound echoed from far away into the woods.

"What- what was t-that?" Stuttered Bilbo.

Fili smirked, "Orc call." He supplied without so much as a glance toward the sound.

"Indeed, they hunt in packs; silently sneaking up on weary travellers in the night when all are slumbering, then they creep up and slit your throats. All quiet like, no noise; just lots of blood." Growled Kili, I shivered internally hoping that these creatures were not planning the same thing for us.

Both brothers burst into laughter. Evidently they thought such a thing to be an adventure and not a sinisterly common occurrence. How could they possibly dismiss mass death and murder in such a way?

"You think a night raid by Orcs is funny, do you?" Cut across the voice of Thorin, scowling from the outside of our circle. He had taken the words right out of my thoughts. My expression mirrored the leader. It hurt to see people I thought I could begin to like speak of the devastation left behind by Orc-kind in such a flippant way as to make a joke of it.

"Forgive me, we meant no harm," Kili pleaded. But he was not looking at Thorin; his eyes were focussed intently on my own.

"I cannot even give you the excuse of youth, what with the company you keep." Thorin scolded the brothers, his eyes flitting to me for a brief moment. For the first time since I had met him, he glanced at me with a modicum of respect; as soon as it had appeared, he had hidden it once more.

"Please, Veyra," Fili tried, "we did not mean it."

"I should have realised," Kili joined in, "I forgot about…" He could not bring the rest of that sentence into verbalisation; and for that, I was glad. "Please, forgive me."

I could not deny the regret etched onto the young Dwarf's face, I realised then how much of a child he still was by Dwarvish standards; he would barely be out of adolescence. He had never had to consider the emotions of those around him before.

I waved a hand in his direction, "It matters not." I told him, "It is done and passed now." The smile I wore did not quite reach my eyes.

The elder Dwarf merely took up huff, striding as far away as the camp allowed. He had probably expected me to be as furious as he. That would not have boded well for anyone; when I let myself become angry there are no half measures, I am either inconsolably weeping or screaming like a feral beast, there is no in between and even I cannot tell which bout will take over.

"Don't take it to heart, lad." Balin consoled a crestfallen Kili, "Thorin has more reason than most to hate Orcs," he explained giving me a pointed look. The elderly Dwarf told the story of Azog the Defiler, whom had slain Thorin's grandfather, the last King Under the Mountain, and of how it had been Thorin whom had defeated the Pale Orc using an Oak branch as a shield. So I had more in common with the leader than I had thought: we had both lost loved ones to Orc-kind.

Bilbo yawned, "Tired?" I enquired. He simply nodded.

Balin and the brothers looked exhausted too. "You three should get some sleep," I advised. I really needed to be alone right this moment.

"Kili and I are on watch, though, my dear," Fili explained, "We shall not slumber for a while as yet." He was yawning even as he said it.

"Nonsense," I dismissed, "you are both asleep in the mind already!" Fili did not argue my point for it was true, both were having immense difficulty in keeping their eyes open, let alone peeled for danger. The elder Dwarf and Fili ambled off in search of their bed rolls, they would not get long; the night was already lightening. Bilbo, too, sauntered away once he had given me a warning glance that clearly told me that he did not trust the remaining Dwarf. I shooed him away.

"You cannot keep watch alone," Kili stated sternly, "If you keep watch, then I shall also."

I groaned, "But you are exhausted! Besides, I would not be alone; Thorin is only the other side of camp, you will all be quite safe." I assured him. It was true, Thorin stood to the east of the camp, staring out into the distance, his eyes shining and alert.

"Still," Kili went on, "it would not be very chivalrous of me now, would it?" I must not have seemed convinced, "I have slept enough already whilst you did." He informed me, I had a feeling this sleep had been more a closed-eyed lie down than actual slumber, but I let it slide nodding an unwilling agreement.

There was a silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but companionable.

"Vey?" Kili's voice, though barely audible, sliced through the peace.

"Hmm?" I hummed, cautiously.

"I was talking to Gandalf the first night," He began, plainly wishing he had not, "he told us about your parents." I nodded for him to go on. Where was he going with this? "It's just… I never met my father either."

"I am sorry to hear that," I said, patting his arm. I still had no clue as to where the Dwarf was taking this. Was he simply trying to find a common ground for us?

Kili leaned toward my touch, I quickly withdrew my hand. This Dwarf was still a stranger to me. "I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me, or Fili if you would prefer, we would understand." He assured me, not meeting my eyes. The sentiment was touching, this stranger was willing, if I were inclined to, to allow me to ramble at him and listen. That was sweet.

"That would be appreciated sometime," I thanked him, but made sure to stress that I was not ready to pull him up on his offer just yet. "Can I ask you something?"

It was his turn to be cautious now, his brows drew close and his face became closed off, like he did not trust himself to answer in case I asked something that their leader would not want me knowing the answer to, "You do not have to answer if you do not wish," I promised him.

This calmed him, he nodded for me to proceed.

I collected my thoughts to decide exactly how to word my wonderings. "I was only thinking, what is the importance of beards with Dwarves? I do not wish to be impertinent, but it intrigues me to see such… interesting facial hair."

Kili frowned, as though I had mortally offended him. That was not my intent, I had been solely curious, now I regretted being so, I could have ignored it. I was about to apologise when he raised his eyes to mine with a small smile. "For us, a beard is a sign of pride and dignity. A beard is an extension of the Dwarf, a symbol of their power in battle. To have a great beard is to be a great warrior."

I realised then why he would be so guarded before replying; he was basically saying that his beard, or lack thereof, was seen as a source of shame; evidence that he had not seen battle, being the youngest.

He still looked vaguely ashamed. "Where I am from," I began, "it is not the beard that defines a warrior, nor even the weapons," He looked at me confusedly, "It is the stories they live to tell." It was true; Old Took had a thousand tales to tell, each more daring and amazing than the next, and he was certainly regarded as a warrior as much as it were possible for a Hobbit.

Kili considered this. "Thank you," He told me, though I am not sure it honestly made any difference nor sense to him, but he gave me a grateful smile all the same. I hoped he would not let his lack of annoying facial hair prevent him from being the warrior he could be.

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**Reviews are more than welcome. :)**


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